


Alpha Problems

by TheWritingGuineapig (Aridette)



Series: Short Haytham/Connor Stories [4]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Animal Traits, Dom/sub, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Pack Dynamics, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Public Sex, infantisation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-06
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 07:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3887731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aridette/pseuds/TheWritingGuineapig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>wolf boy AU where everyone has ears, tail and fangs like wolves, and also behaves a bit like them.<br/>it's basically just tongue-in-cheek porn with fluffy ears and dom/sub dynamics...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alpha Problems

**Author's Note:**

> they look like [this](http://themidnightguineapig.tumblr.com/post/117683296603/i-scribbled-some-wolfmen-conhayth-because-fluffy) and [this](http://guineapigprincess.tumblr.com/post/114936296264/wolf-daddy-haytham-hates-spring)

Haytham Kenway hated spring. Everyone around him seemed to lose their senses and he couldn't stand it. Even in the middle of a goddamn war young men and women didn't have better things to do than bark and growl at each other because of whomever they were wooing. And worse even, there were couples almost shagging in the streets or going all the way in privy side alleys. Not that the guards were doing anything against it. They were struggling with their own savage desires while on duty.  
All everyone was talking about wherever he went was pups and marriage. How on earth was he supposed to get a lead on what the British were planning when there was no gossip about anything military at all and with the whole city gone mad?  
Of course he didn't hate spring because he didn't have anyone he wanted to spend mating season with. That would be ridiculous.

Sighing he sat down on a tree stump near the beach. He had been out and about trying to gather information all day but wasn't any the wiser now. A sudden rustling sound made his ears turn in search for the source and his tail stand up. It was a turkey who slowly strode closer, coming to a halt in front of Haytham, looking at him expectantly. He chuckled and his tail relaxed.  
“Hello, feathered friend.” he said gently before getting some bait out of one of his pouches.  
One of the trees behind him creaked and Haytham turned his head. Connor was elegantly swinging down from a branch and inclined his head when his father noticed him.  
“I didn't expect to see you again so soon.” Haytham greeted. “And certainly not during the season. Do you happen to have a girl here in New York?” As his son averted his gaze he smirked. “No need to feel ashamed.”

Connor stared at him for a while, before sitting down beside his father on the grass, watching the turkey pecking the bait Haytham had crumbled for it.  
“I do not feel ashamed.” he stated. However, a glance at Connor proved his words wrong; the ears under his hood were flattened against his skull and his tail curled around his leg. When Haytham didn't respond, he continued hesitantly “And I am not in New York for a woman. I have other business here.”

“Really. Do you need me to help you?”

Connor scoffed. “Why do you think so, father? I am capable of taking care of my affairs myself.” Haytham raised his brows and he added: “Bringing down your pack, for an example, was something I accomplished without your help.”

The reminder of his failure as Grandmaster stung, but the fact that all his alpha-instincts to avenge his brothers, to maul the threat to his pack, continued to fail him, was worse.  
Haytham growled lowly. “Well then, tell me, Connor, why did you seek me out if you have such important business to attend? I don't believe you've missed me.”

“I have business with _you_ , father.” Connor said firmly, but below the Assassin's hood his cheeks had turned red. “I want to mate.”

“Now, that's nothing unusual for your age, good for you.” the Templar said dismissively. “But I can't really see how this has anything to do with me.”

“I want to mate with you.”

Silence.

Then, without a warning, Haytham snarled and threw himself at his astonished son, using his whole weight to pin him to the ground. The turkey ran away, startled, puffing up its plumage as it ranted and raved.  
“Are you trying to make fun of me, boy?” Haytham growled, fastening his grip on Connor's wrists as he was struggling. His hat was knocked off. “Do you think the idea of dominating me amusing?”  
However, his anger disappeared in an instant, looking at the young Assassin's face. Damn, this stupid season, there had been no reason to explode like that.

“No! I would never do such a thing. I thought-” Connor broke off, seemingly troubled.

Oh dear, had the pup a crush on his papa? Curious.  
When the anger left him it was replaced by something darker. Haytham knew it was more than wrong, but he couldn't help feeling exited by his son's display of weakness.  
He bent down, hovering only inches over the Assassin's face. “Is this the first time you're on heat?” he asked, his voice smooth like velvet. Connor nodded, Haytham smirked. “I see. Not a lesson old Davenport can teach you, hmm?” He lowered his voice to an intimate whisper. “I might even be in favour of helping you with that. If you're going to be a good boy for me, that is.”

Haytham waited for an answer, but his son only watched him with a mixture of distrust and arousal. He loosened his grip on Connor's wrists, then let go of them. The boy didn't move, so he bent down for a gentle kiss. As he put down the Assassin's hood he was met by stiff resistance, but when Haytham began fondling his ears, Connor whined and haltingly reached out to clench his hands around his father's arms. Taking this as an approval, the Templar deepened the kiss, making his son let out a wonderful, dark, almost purring sound. He alternated between massaging the ears and running his fingers through Connor's hair, and soon the boy was completely relaxed, stroking Haytham's arms absent-mindedly, moaning into the other's mouth. Only then Haytham nudged his knee between his son's legs, experimentally applying pressure against his groin. The reaction was immediate; Connor whined again and rocked his hips in an attempt to increase the friction.  
Haytham moved on to kissing the neck, applying his teeth from time to time, grazing his fangs teasingly over the boy's throat. When he let one of his hands wander to massage his son through his breeches, it left Connor whimpering like a dog, wordlessly begging for more.  
“Vocalise your request!” Haytham demanded huskily. He had a hard time keeping his face stern, however; what father wouldn't want to give his whelp everything they wanted when they were whimpering like a good little pup.

It seemed to take all the boy's concentration to breath out: “Father, more.” Then the whimpering continued.

“Do I have to teach you how to beg properly, Connor?” He grabbed his son's growing arousal through his clothes. The whimpering turned into a lament. “You want to get off, don't you?” he purred.

Torn between frustration and desperation, Connor eventually obeyed. “Please!” he grit out. But as soon as Haytham slipped a spit-slick hand into the Assassin's pants, the frustration was forgotten and between yowling moans and occasional whimpers Connor couldn't stop slipping in chants of “Father, please.”  
Haytham smirked against his son's throat and moved on to his collar bone, determined to leave some marks. He had never allowed himself to have anything just for himself, but the boy was his pup; his, his, _his_.  
Bucking into his father's palm one last time, Connor came, calling out for him in his mother tongue.

Haytham wiped his sticky hand on the grass. Connor let out a content sigh and met the other's gaze with drowsy eyes.  
“It's my turn to feel good now, don't you think?” Haytham said after a while.

The Assassin sat up, nestled against his father and pressed his lips on his. Haytham let him lead the kiss this time, unrefined as it was; the boy was eager to please and he had to admit that he liked this new side of his usually so irritating son. Unbuttoning his breeches, he impatiently put Connor's hand where he wanted it. Still terribly aroused from the picture his son had made – laying sprawled out before him on his back, without resistance, begging his father for more, whimpering – it was not before long that he spilled his seed all over the boy's belt and sash.  
As he was catching his breath he murmured praises and Connor licked his jaw. Haytham felt his ego swell and hummed in satisfaction.

Connor buttoned up his fathers pants, pondering.  
“It felt good, but can we mate properly the next time?” the Assassin asked, his voice bold. His tail, however, wagged nervously.

Haytham petted his son's hair and ears. The other leaned into the touch. He wished the boy would always be this agreeable.  
“If I feel like there will be a next time, maybe.” he said vaguely.  
Haytham smiled coldly at the disappointment his son couldn't keep from showing on his face. Surely Connor would be far more amenable if he didn't take such encounters for granted.

Yes, he thought, the boy was _his pup_. And he'd make sure his pup would learn how to behave in front of an alpha.

**Author's Note:**

> A big sorry to all of you guys who've been waiting for something new from me (as I had promised)!  
> I'm writing really slowly atm .__.  
> But I won't abandon this pairing in the near future, so stay tuned for more! It might take some time, tho.....
> 
> Also, I recently started writing the Dishonoured AU but I'm currently stuck... I hope to finish it before summer is over, but I can't promise anything D=


End file.
